I remember 12 years ago walking down the aisles of the Houston SPCA looking for a kitten as a playmate for one I already had at home. I came across a small orange/white tabby kitten alone in a cage and decided he was the one for me. I took him home and never regretted the decision. He was a spunky little kitten that obviously had to fend for himself. He ate whatever he could get, even attacked my roommate’s sandwich once while he was eating it. He blossomed into a large beautiful long haired bruiser that never lost his huge appetite or his ability to stand up for himself. Constantly through his life as a bully, I would have to take him to the vet for abscesses which normally had to be drained with a tube for several days, but he never seemed to mind. Mostly a house cat, he also ruled the inside kingdom of five other cats and they all respected his size and authority.
Last November, he started getting urinary blockages and we soon learned that they were so severe he had to have a “perineal urethrostomy” which basically removed his male parts and made him more of a female. Although there were some risks with the operation, he responded well and improved with flying colors. His personality changed after the lengthy stays at the veterinary hospital and he decided he wanted to be a 15 pound lap cat. He demanded constant attention, which we willingly gave and blossomed into a new improved “Brooks”.
Last Saturday, he stopped eating and drinking and just layed on the bed in obvious discomfort. I immediately took him to the vet, thinking we were having some after effects of his surgery. Blood tests showed nothing other that high glucose levels so they suspected the beginning of diabetes, which I could surely handle. His breathing was very rapid, so they did an x-ray of his chest on Monday and found a large tumor in his chest very close to his heart. It actually looked like several parts of this growth were wrapping around his little heart and pushing on his lungs which was causing him difficulty to breath.
They gave us a few options, operation was not one of them. I read some stories about cats having chemotherapy (which is very costly), and most pet owners regretted the decision to do this. It usually increases the life span a year of so, but with a multitude of side effects and other issues to me didn’t sound like a very good quality of life. This was soon ruled out for us. The only other option was starting him on prednisone which MIGHT stop the growth and increase his appetite for a few weeks.
After all he had been through months before, I couldn’t see putting him through endless vet visits again for just a few extra weeks with him, so we decided to ease his suffering and put him to sleep. It was and will remain one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. We invested so much love, time, and money into him, and it just tore my heart out to let him go. They brought him in last night to see us one last time and I loved on him and told him what a good boy he was and that we loved him, and then I held his little head in my hand and petted him with the other as they gave him his injection. I have a house full of cats, but I see my Brooks wherever I go. Everything reminds me of him, even the small leaf he was playing with just a few days ago. I’ll continue to remember the site of a 15 pound 12 year old bully cat jumping up in air and pouncing like a kitten on a simple leaf. I know he’ll continue to live in my heart, but I miss him so already. Rest in peace my Brookser.
With all of our love,
| Brooks |
| Kathy Mead |